Seven
by Lacessit
Summary: A penny for your thoughts. A story for your sins.
1. Greed

I do not own Labyrinth, nor the quote at the beginning of each story.

A serious of drabbles and shorter stories based on the seven deadly sins.

**Greed**

_See, sons, what things you are,  
How quickly nature falls into revolt  
When gold becomes her object.  
2 Henry IV 4.5.64-6, Henry to Gloucester and Clarence _

The preceeding royals of the Goblin Realm had been lovers since childhood. A handsome prince and a simple girl, a former servent of the High King himself. It was a storybook romance before storybook romances existed. He had discreetly showered her with gifts, and even less discreetly with love.

He gave her simple things; a skirt here, a pair of earrings there. But the most memorable gift was that of a ring-simple and silver-of which he had slipped onto the fourth finger of her left hand, smiling devilishy. Tears flooded her eyes, as she skipped and stammered over her words. He had placed a gloved finger to her mouth, nodding, before giving her one last kiss, and disappearing into the night.

They were wed the next year, and while his father certainly didn't wish for the prince to marry a servant, the truth was, she was a good girl, and would make a marvelous queen.

And the gifts came coming. Jewelry, swords, horses of the whitest snow and darkest night, a crown of gold and, finally, a golden child's carriage.

The future Goblin King was born soon thereafter.

It wasn't long until a rebellion rised, a battle was announced, a date set. The Goblin Queen sat in her bed, surrounding by amethyst silk sheets, a baby clinging to her breast, her cheeks stained with tears, while her husband fought for her.

And it wasn't much longer after that until the Goblin Queen became a widow.

While the concept of "retail therapy" is certainly that of a mortal, it is most appropriate for the situation the Goblin Queen found herself in. Spending money left and right, going through jewels like water. Her son wore only the finest, her galas were extravagent, her guards outfitted with the hard steel chestplates. It became such a mess that it took less then three years for the Goblin Realm to be in danger of disappearing, for the Queen could no longer afford to keep the kingdom running.

The second rebellion came sooner then expected.

Angry goblins tore through the castle, destroying the property and ripping the Queen from her slumber. The center of the city was used as an example for all future queens, as flames lit by the ignored citizens engulfed the former servent into the eternal bliss of death.

The son was spared, the seventeen year old spitting image of his father, with a warning that he had better fix the mess his mother made, or face the same fate.

Sitting in the charred throne, he readjusted the half-melted crown on his head and swore that he would find a humble Queen, even if it killed him.


	2. Lust

I do not own Labyrinth, nor the quote at the beginning of each story.

A serious of drabbles and shorter stories based on the seven deadly sins.

**Lust**

_They are in the very wrath of love, and they will together;  
__clubs cannot part them.  
As You Like It 5.2.40-1, Rosalind to Orlando_

It had been a mere moon before he visited her again. She was not shocked, nor scared, as he slowly stepped closer to the wooden chair she occupied. He had tilted his head, flashed a dazzling smile, softly said her name. She had merely raised one brow, and gave him a nod, as if in toast to him. He laughed then, and her heart skipped a beat.

And he had visted her almost every night for the next month, before both fully realized the feelings the other held.

It was a small kiss; soft, chaste. He revelled in the smoothness of her pale, pink mouth. She was delighted at the prospect of getting her first kiss from him. Looking back on it, she would giggle at the virgin in herself, the innocent angel that always did as Daddy said.

The innocent angel was soon forgotten.

It was as small a bed as that first kiss, but they adapted. He was use to luxury; she was used to sleeping alone. She was used to actually _sleeping_. But she was willing to give that up, for the way he made her feel was nothing less than perfection.

He was easy with her, gentle as the kisses her mother use to give her. And as she matured, so did the relationship between them, and there were days she found herself close to crying for the need she felt.

Senior Prom night was usually a night spent out with friends. Sarah Williams spent her prom night in the bed of the Goblin King. And she never did return to the innocent angel she once was.

* * *


	3. Envy

I do not own Labyrinth, nor the quote at the beginning of each story.

A serious of drabbles and shorter stories based on the seven deadly sins.

**Envy**

_When Envy breeds unkind division:  
There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.  
1 Henry VI 4.1.195-6, Exeter_

The partners glided across the crystalline ballroom floor, as graceful as they come, the love between them surrounding the other royals like a ring of Saturn.

She was beautiful, that was certain. Silken tresses of the deepest chocolate hue, falling past her shoulders in voluminous curls. Skin like porcelain, soft to the touch, a true glow from within. The dress she wore seemed to be poured onto her body; poured onto the heavenly curves that were sure to make all the men in the room go insane. Heavenly curves, radiant skin, soft locks. All for one man, one man who surely had grown to know every trace, every line, every curve on her frame like the back of his own gloved hand.

One man who had taken that perfect woman-that _mortal-_as his bride.

_Damn her_, the rejected princess at the back of the room clenched her fists and bit her tongue. _Damn that Goblin Queen.

* * *

_


	4. Anger

I do not own Labyrinth, nor the quote at the beginning of each story.

A serious of drabbles and shorter stories based on the seven deadly sins.

**Anger**

_Come not between the dragon and his wrath.  
King Lear 1.1.123, Lear to Kent_

The sounds of dainty plastic tea cups being thrust against the walls of a modest stone cottage could be heard ringing loud and clear from the belly of the forest. An accompanying shrill or loud groan would follow soon after, and then another object, perhaps a chair or maybe a cooking pot, would face the same fate of the cup.

_What does she think she's doing? _The dwarf would yell, more to himself than to the stunned fox sitting at the table, _Coming back here, and for what? To be with that, that...dirty rotten, no good, down-right horrible son of a prince's servant whore?!? _More yelling, a toss of a boot, the smash of a spray bottle of water hitting the wall, soaking the stone. The dwarf would punch the door, kick the cupboard, pound of the fireplace; anything to let it be known that he was not happy.

_Perhaps it's for the best?_ His friend would counter, shrinking back with uncommon fear, _Perhaps she truly does love him, and perhaps he truly loves her. Have you ever thought of that?_

Thought of that? Of course he had that of that! But just because he had thought of it doesn't make it true. So instead, the dwarf opted to kindly throw the knight out of his house, slamming the door behind him.

She was the only person to look at the gnarled dwarf with kindness in her eyes and in her heart, even though he had acted selfish at times. She was weet and determined and intelligent. She should have stayed Aboveground, should've stayed mortal, should've married a mortal man, given birth to mortal children, and died a mortal death. But now she was stuck here forever; stuck here forever with that rat. He could never accept that.

The thrashing and smashing and heaving and tossing continued for another hour.

* * *


	5. Pride

I do not own Labyrinth, nor the quote at the beginning of each story.

A serious of drabbles and shorter stories based on the seven deadly sins.

**Pride**

_I can see his pride  
Peep through each part of him.  
Henry VIII 1.1.68-9, Abergavenny to Buckingham_

She was one to speak her mind; she was a free-thinker before she married and after she married. She was also the only person to defeat him, the one person thought of as better than him.

She was his wife. She had taken the vow and she would honor it until the end of time. Death was no option when you are immortal.

And when he was arrogant and stubborn at state dinners, she knew it was because she would say as she thought, and that she was the only person to defeat him, the one person though of as better than him.

She also knew he truly loved her, for he would never have sought her out if he didn't. She knew the _stronger husband, weaker wife _act was a show for the other royals; the other royals knew it as well. But nobody bothered to call him out on it. On the contrary, they'd all get a good laugh out of it when he wasn't around, herself included.

After the dinners, the balls, the events, she knew he would still make love to her like he did the night of their wedding. He would still cherish her and hold her in higher esteem than any other being, even himself.

And at the end of the day, she knew she was the only person to defeat him, the one person thought of as better than him.

* * *


	6. Gluttony

I do not own Labyrinth, nor the quote at the beginning of each story.

A serious of drabbles and shorter stories based on the seven deadly sins.

**Author's Note**: I did the reverse on this sin. Hope you still like it.

**Gluttony**

_Let him be damned, like the glutton!  
__Pray God his tongue be hotter!  
2 Henry IV 1.2.35-6_

He had been only four years old when his sister disappeared. And when Daddy made the demonstration of taking away his sister's Monopoly piece and placing it in a little box box, sealing it away forever, he understood that she would not return.

He went through the normal cycle of crying, cuddling with Lancelot, and not speaking for days at a time. It gradually got better and better for him. He gradually learned how to put the past behind him. He gradually forgot that he should be sad.

Until the age of fifteen, he had been okay with the fact that she was gone. But something in the way that little red book would refuse to stay in the place on his bookshelf, something in the way it would fly off, onto his floor, and flip to the very last few pages in the dead of night, gave him a very uneasy feeling.

It didn't take long for the teenager to find a means of distraction.

Most teenage boys like to work out as a means of impressing girls, and out-cooling their friends. He found it to be a relaxing activity, one he would often indulge in. And soon it became that he was downing energy drinks, refusing meals, and locking himself in the basement weight room for days on end.

The behavior was ignored. _Good to let him have an activity_, the excuse would be, while other parents would bite their lips at the change in the boy. Nobody warned him of the pressure he was putting on himself, of the danger he was putting himself in. And so he continued; _sleep, wake up, shower, work out, shower, sleep, repeat. Sleep, wake up, shower, work out, shower, sleep, repeat_.

It was no suprise at all when his girlfriend of two years found the over-exercised, under-nourished teen, dead in his weight room. Dead at nineteen years old of a heart attack.

And after the surface at the church ended, when the cemetery was empty, when the funeral was over, no one was around to see the young woman, immortalized at eighteen, crying over the grave, running manicured fingers along the letters, cast in stone.

No one was around to the see Queen of the Goblins sobbing hysterically, blaming herself for the death of her brother.

* * *

I must confess: I took the idea of Mr. Williams locking away the Monopoly piece from Alice Sebold's book, _The Lovely Bones_. And I fully recommend that book to anyone. It's a treasure. 


	7. Sloth

I do not own Labyrinth, nor the quote at the beginning of each story.

A serious of drabbles and shorter stories based on the seven deadly sins.

**Sloth**

_Hereditary sloth instructs me.  
The Tempest 2.1.241, Sebastian_

He had witnessed it at the age of nine, when his mother was slowly being lowered six feet under. He noticed the way his father look, tired and sick. The sag of the shoulder, the slouch of the spine, the sigh of defeat. The loss of his mother to breast cancer had effected him greatly, but his father was too far gone to function.

The older man retreated to his bedroom, looking at pictures from his youth and reminicising about the good old days. It got to the point where the young boy's aunt had to chaffuer him around, cook him dinner, and eventually move in the to Victorian-style house.

She stayed until the nine year old boy turned into an eighteen year old young adult, and through the years in which he moved out, married twice, and had two children.

It was no suprise to nobody when, faced with the tragic death of his first born, the boy who became a man locked himself away, flipping through scrapbooks and watching home movies of birthdays, holidays, and days at the beach. Everytime the camera would zoom in on the girl's beautiful face, he would tear up all over again. He spent two weeks crying himself to sleep. It wasn't until a hysterical second wife dragged him out of bed, that he knew he needed to change.

_You are just like your father! _She shouted.,_You still have a son!_

And so he shaped up, prepared to be the best father he could, to fill in the space of a missing sister.

All was well, until the boy reached fifteen. He began keeping to himself, spending days and days in that damned room in that damned basement. The house became less of a home, and more of an apartment, with three tennants. The husband, clueless as to why his son retreated so far within himself. The son, who found it useless to try and bond with anyone. The wife, who didn't understand a goddamn thing.

He saw his son less and less, until the day he dreaded most came back for another go-around.

The second death in the span of less than twenty years.

_Fuck it all_, he thought, slipping under the covers for another marathon of home movies. _Just fuck it all._

_

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End file.
